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Archive for January, 2011

Naive mind and desperate soul
Took you for a bitter ride.
Troubled with one’s own insecurity
I blew away your night.

A presumed dialogue
Or just a monologue.
I see it doesn’t matter
As the faults are not yours
But neither are they mine.
Its an involuntary choice as you say
Of the way that we are.
Born romantic,
Yet taboo-ed sensitivity.
Dared to dream
Yet daft in pursuit.
As the acquaintance are of the clandestine kind.

I thought i owe an apology
But yes, what wrong did i do.
Hyped oneself up a bit.
For another shoulder
I may not deserve.

But glad i am
For what it was.
bcoz it brought back the tinge of romanticism
To my depraved and deprived soul.
May be a lost call, an unpleasant memory.
But for the regained faith in romanticism
in this plane of desperate-indulgences
the faith shine like an oasis.
Perhaps for a few more grain of time.
For a little solace to a wandering heart.

I feared for a scar
For the delicate heart of our kind.
As the night went astray
and as believed to be my in-capacitance
I thought i owe an explanation
bcoz you read me wrong
But i see, so did I.

But all in all,
Now i see that it doesn’t matter
For as many word i speak
As vain it would become.

but, Apology for stupid conducts
And thanks for the lesson
On the vagueness in romanticism
Of the blindly-obsessive and the desperate kind.

Hampi and the shades,
Colorful and bright, as the brilliance of white light enlightens the ruins of past remnants detailing out the curves and the inscriptions, the old narrative comes to life singing an ancient tune but somewhat of the familiar kind. Fading into the serene and picturesque gloom of the evening dusk as the dazzling brilliance of the sun fades away to reveal the soft orange shade of the setting sun falling upon the refreshing green expanse that runs along the serene mosaic of rocks, big and small, scattered in a pattern, as one sits in one of its multitude of high rocks watching the day graciously drifting into the night as the faces changes its direction from the rocks and adventures towards the cosy environment of subtle light as the memory of the day runs along the line of the songs that one’s mood sing in the company of colorful attires and beautiful minds; romantic lovely hearts and bold liberty; peaceful high and soothing beats of freedom, love and peace,…. of Them, … the Hippy kind…

And amidst this progression, I saw myself getting drenched in different shades of an old-dream in the present wonderland of now; some fantasy contrasting some reality; some memoirs, some feelings being shaded by some introspection as the frame changed from two dimension to a deeper third dimension as another axis called the conscience defines the figure in mind and help me comprehend it more to fit it right where it belong; mixed play of the impulse of the instincts and the bare logic of the thoughts; of something far yet so-present in heart and mind; as the trip made its way through the incidents and the accidents as I indulge, sorting out the blindness and understood black for black and white for white, red for red and green for green, blue for blue and grey for grey, yellow for yellow and colorful for colorful as the smile comes with a melancholic sigh heaving out the blur in the mind as it regains the truth in the revelation and the realisation of the kind that one believed one was, and happy to have found the presence, as the shades paves a path of peaceful understanding of a beautiful existence……..

The shades begin with kanu, my friend and companion for the trip. She is this pink shaded sweetness for the way she is, as a hopeless-romantic finding inspiration from academics for she has the brain of bright shades, and she prefers to live in the purple land of purple dreams. Someone I met through a friend about a year ago but the hopeless-romantic in me found the company damn nice and somehow we became fast friends. We hopeless romantics cant help it for we know that all we need is an audience and some appreciations, and who better than another hopeless-romantic of the similar kind who adds up to the romanticism. And we find the solidarity so easily. For a trip meant to wash away the gritty grime of Academics-on-rocks and back-on-track; guilt, fear and shame towards family warmly swept away by care and concern and a promise of faith from my ever wonderful family and a lovesick-confused-cat that finally understood the misery in vague romanticism of the blindly-obsessive and desperate kind, my hopeless-romantic travel companion always had the best comforting words to say and the best shoulder to lean on while her purplishly-hopeless-romantic-impulses never fails in keeping the freak-factor alive. Even though at most of times, we both were riding high on our own trippy clouds with the melodies of one’s respective ipods, i knew all I needed was to just pull out your ear-phones and i will always find a keen ear of a caring friend to listen to the melodrama of this hopeless romantic. And your free-flow-happy-streaks of freak-out-just-indulge-because-its-a-holiday-trip helped me make the most out of the trip as with those fun, I unwind the confused and worked-up mind. Never to forget, your knowledge on Indian-mythology and its cultural heritage as you throw lights into the significance of the sculptures and the discourses that followed as I try a little bit of semiotic analysis of the signs that you just interpreted and also, being the photographer of your travelogue .

Overwhelmed by the jets and streaks of colours that came flying as I cross to the other shore, an impulse to indulge in them shot up in heart and so I let myself go and try and blend into the colors. For a change from the dull and gloomy grey and blues that had been lurking around for the past few months, I decided to adorn myself with bright yellow. So confident with the change in the shade i stepped out into and amidst the colors. But while the yellow Kurta brings in the much required radiance to shed away the greys, the chequered pajamas that I had bought just as i reached the Hippy-land with so much of admiration only made me look like a clown. Although it gave me great comfort and warmth during the cold hour of the dark night before dawn, somewhere in the radiance of the day it just confuses my shade with very weird Humor. I took a few more conscious steps as slowly slowly the clown-ness seeps into mind. And just in time I found a store, a store filled with colors and shades and their I splurge into it in search for the color that will give me the perfect shade and I found the right kind: A black shaded fisherman’s pant. And as the solid shade of black brought in the comfort and the sensibility in the way I look, i realised chequered-kinds are a liitle not me. Comfortable at last, i walked out again and this time… I found my head a little high. I was nomore a clown lost in colors, i was in my right shades. As for the sun gleaming up from the above streaming away energy from my soul, I put on the newly bought black glares comfortably blocking away the heat and rendering the eyes a more subtle and pleasant view.

The shades of blues from the ipod helped me sway-through graciously amidst the crowd, blocking away the numerous mutterings of the fleeting tongues as the contours on the face began to speak. A little twitch here and there from unknown-preety faces slowly twitching up a smile in my cheeks as one after another their peace brushes away my inner conflicts. Somewhere the pop rang loud and I took steps corresponding to the easy and light beats of a leisurely juvenile shade. My hair felt free and the feet stomped in confidence as Rock made its way through the playlist. And in the evening dusk and the refreshing cool breeze on the way back from the soaring high of the rocks after the sun-set-view trek, i found solace in the lyrics of the unknown Icelandic-lyrics of Sigur Ros as music spoke to heart and as the mind cannot comprehend, the feelings did.

Following day brings out the shades hidden and inscribed ages ago as Kanu went on Deciphering the sculptures and the inscriptions. A story of a land where i stand now, but of edged past, a carving made centuries ago and significant of the weathering it withstood. Somewhere some pieces had dissolved with time but for the remnants that still stand strong, the beauty is still intact although a liitle bit of weathering edged away the sharp contours into subtle depression reminding the glory with fond reminiscence. And somewhere as i was lost in the past glory, somewhere a fear strucked me as i try and redeem the fate of the remnants and an assurance comes as i saw the effort being put to preserve of what had remained. Some modern equipments of this age had been used to mend the ancient, and rightfully it did, after all the significance of reminiscence lies in the present.

A long walk around and amidst the ruins and remnants had somehow tired me so i retired back into our hut. And as i lay on the bed gathering up energy and vibes for the wonderful night ahead, going through the clothes i have packed for the trip, i saw the part of me that i am. And it hit me strong as another reminiscence came striking into the mind of the hippy-dreams i had long chosen to dream. So here i am, amidst the city of colours, amidst a fantasy land and now a reality. A close encounter of the fantasy kind. And as fantasy was narrated through the reality of experience, it cleared away the doubts and in-experience-ness in the fantasy and as the reality reveals the truth i found my interpretation of love, peace and freedom. I realised, no matter how much freedom and liberty I proclaim, I found myself still bound and comforted by the improvised leisure of the current era. Also nothing ever remains the same. Time changes and so does the trends, its the essence that remains the same, The essence of love, peace and freedom. So, may be, I have aspire to settle and make a place in the existing current world but the Hippy-Dream will remain in my pursuit for true love, peace and freedom in any endeavour I take. So i took a walk towards the deserted river bank and the solemn rocks. The sounds of the flowing water soothed my soul as i indulge in the dark silhouette of the landscape that stand picturesque at day time. In this night scene, the radiance of the day seems to have lost its ground as the stars and the moons gleams with charm in the evening sky.

The Tipi Restaurant has a shade unique of its own. As the traveling musicians gather up in the evening in this wonderful and peaceful place, the serene-ness of the star dotted night seems to melodiously sway away into a fond celebration of the spirit of life. Verses after verses, the lyrics continues the tales of the beauty of life as the instruments plucks a chord here and there in the strings of the heart. Liberty they proclaim, beauty they glorify in their pursuit of truth and peace. And astonishingly, an unknown face with a familiar voice took me back to “into the wild”, as he sang “guaranteed”, “society”, “big hard sun”, “no ceiling” “long nights”, “far behind”, “rise” in progression and concluded with “guaranteed”. A lyrical note that I hold dear to one’s life, but somewhere had forgotten to take along for the trip. And as the lyrical notes made its appearance surprisingly out of the blue into the wandering mind, I realised nothing can be as beautifull so i gave him a smile as he courteously responded with another warm smile and so did everyone and somehow i realised the thread that runs amongst the soul gathered in that fatefull place and rejoiced the fleeting company with fondness as one felt at home, amidst familiar strangers.

After a quick breakfast and some lounging in the Tipi, trying to capture a little more of the reminiscence of the night that it was, we began our trip back to Hyderabad. I saw myself fleeting through the colorful street lined with colorful stores, though this time it was the sweet good-bye and not the excited hello of having just arrived. As i strolled away from the hippy-land, i knew i was leaving something behind, something that was a part of me, for a while or for long, but a significant part that had once engulfed me with emotions and thoughts, dear and bitter. But i knew it was a nice melancholic exchange of shades of mood. If at all i was leaving something behind, i knew i was also taking along memories of shades in the clothes i shopped from there. And this time i wasn’t confused in choosing the shade so i boldly chose green, grey and maroon.

All in all, Hampi was a trip full of colors but most importantly i found my shades. I realised i am more of a solid shade and mostly of darker shades like blue, grey, black and green. But, i also like, and can energetically run along the chequered lines with red, yellow, and orange. Or may be play a sweet game of dotting each others shade, sometimes me as the background and sometimes them as the background. Or may be contrast and compliment as i ground them well while the bright pulls up to the soaring high. But mostly i am a shade of solid color of blue, grey, black and green shades.

As the shades played its overwhelming game, somewhere a radiant peaceful white and glaring red seems missing. A word i heard, they may flutter by but wasn’t that convinced if i am ready to blend in it. Somewhere it lurked in the mind, but most of the time i let the randomness continues. As the day proceeds i knew i was also running away from it sticking to the random and not to effort. But inevitable it was, and as accidents are also characteristic of the randomness, amidst the crowded shades of the busy market, the shade of white came fleeting through with radiance and the shades of red filled up the face as hot bloods came rushing, and yes i was right, somehow the radiance shades of white still dazzles me though the red blushes storms the mind blank and so i held my head low. Similarly to how Frost puts it,

i stopped by the colors to explore the shades
to redeem to myself some old promises and gain a few
but there is miles before the promises are accomplished.

Somewhere, somehow i intend to learn, to blend with the dazzling-white-kind-of-soul and sport the blushing red with splendour.

and

Somehow, Somewhere everything dissolves into a silence, so has hampi and all its shades as i sit in my Hostel room. But some silence is always serene and brings out a little melancholic but an understanding smile in the faith of peace.

Defined by the word, joined by the context…. meaning of a sentence runs deep….
it crack hearts with a cold whip, or spreads warm smile around
but that sharp whip of note of lyrics
made the red turn crimson…

Naive, that one is,… still finds melodies in the hollow tunes of the jagged strings
as hollow it is, it vibrated more,
as sharp it is, as clear it becomes
as hollow it is, as transparent, honest and true it is ….

i agree the deal wasnt fair,
for i had been Naive, and Vain.
and i cant say a word of repentance
bcoz every mention of a moment rare
will always be reminded with a regret
for i didn’t give it all while i can
and… if gave, then what?… a repentance!!
and for what, to see “intimacy” turn into “deal”…

but then,
I Didn’t deal, i was only intimate
for those momentous intimacy,
deemed as a “failed deal”
if i could tell u, u had all my heart and mind around you

sometimes one is just speechless but it doesnt mean one is quiet…. just a lot rushing thru heart and brain …
sometimes just silence prevails but the faces tells a lot of tales of expression…. as it plays its silent play, somewhere in the corner of the lips remain a poetry untold while the emotions flutters by the eyelashes….
and no matter how many freedom i bore upon, or liberty i proclaim…. the poetry remain trapped and somehow i just cannot let the emotions flow……………………
somewhere in the accidental glance, there is an intention behind…….,
somewhere in the casual smiles, resides tremendous excitement and fondness……..,
sometimes i look away somewhere and i realise that the sight before was much more pleasing but i never look back again,…….

As for the hollow note of the jagged strings,
i only find melody in you…
and not always for a hope but a fond remembrance is always worth the trick…

i wonder if i read more than what the lyrics were meant for, or may be i read it wrong…. but as i sit there absorbed in it, i was just confused as i try to hold onto evryword for what it really meant….. did they say antything abt us?.. or was them just a fond mumbling coz of fond remembrance of the perfect kind… or am i being stupid by even asking these or can i be pardoned for having been a love-stricken romeo…

as much naive as i am, i wish i was courageous,… courageous enough to let it all out, then courageous enough to move on, as required….

as much as the feelings continues its discourse on love in the brain, the insecurity did it well in protecting me from the assumed awkwardness, and there, i remained silent…

of-course, the knowledge is pitty in quantity but is it necessary to really justify the feeling???… often i ask myself…. before and after that wave of good-bye… i am sorry if i had treasured that smile on the face, the delicacy in ur hand or that moment straight out of dream, laying next to u, i am sorry if my heart should not have wandered so far…… but i just couldnt keep my eyes off the veins in ur hand, or how ur gentle face lie asleep as the morning sun creeps up to me through the window spreading a joy while my hair flutters in the slow and cold breeze that the morning after the night had brought.

differences i saw, distances i felt… but sorry i seem to have been playing with my heart in those play of courtship….. as my freind rightly puts it, may be i am over-riding it but then i see no harm in rhyming up a verse for u,
after all u took away a piece of my heart…